Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection

by Parker, Kylie

  Everything is just falling apart. This is the last thing Eddie needs too. He is already dealing with debt. His life is stressful enough dealing with me as a younger brother. I don’t know why, but I start thinking about my dad. I am still so angry with him for what he did to Eddie. He had raised Eddie as his own and then had dropped the bombshell in his will that Eddie was a result of our mother’s affair and had really cheated him out of much inheritance –leaving him a crappy summer home, a tiny fraction of his fortune, and a lot of questions. Eddie has been dealing with his shitty half-siblings he has only recently learned about –more bastards belonging to his biological father. They put enough stress on him always asking for money, and recently I have not done much to make it any easier on him. Now he has to deal with this too, and he has to deal with it without me for a while since I’m out of commission. This is not what we needed right now.

  The door to my room opens, and a young male nurse enters. Just my luck. I can’t even get a hot nurse to take care of me. I get stuck with the young college graduate. I sigh. The nurse is kind enough to turn on my television for me and show me how to work the remote after giving me some pain killers. The news is on, and I grimace slightly. Of course, the story about the faulty supplements is playing over and over again on the local channels. I don’t know what to do.

  20

  I really lucked out being able to walk away with nothing more than a mild concussion and a few hairline fractures in my right arm and ribs. There is a video circling around online of the accident, and after watching it for the fifth time, I’m thankful to be alive. It looks pretty rough. I put my phone back on the bedside table; I’m still in my hospital bed, bored out of my mind. I’ve been here all night, and it looks like they’re going to make me stay here another night to monitor my head injury. Just my luck. My company is falling apart, and I’m stuck at the hospital. I’ve already spoken to the doctor, and I did my best to convince him that I am fine, but he had been pretty insistent on me staying since I live alone. I have not been able to get in touch with Sylvia; she probably does not even know about the accident yet.

  After finishing my sub-par hospital breakfast, I decide to create a game for myself. I tear up the paper napkin I had been providing and begin to ball up the pieces into balls about the size of my thumbnail. There is a trashcan on the far side of the room, so begin to play hoops with my left arm since my right is in a sling. This is what boredom can do to me. I’ve already played on my phone through half the night last night –unable to sleep because of my own discomfort, so that is out now. I’ve watched television, but the hospital only gets a few channels. So now I am playing trashcan basketball with rolled up napkin bits.

  The room door opens just as I am making a terrible toss, and I see my nurse-man roll his eyes, probably really glad he is about to get off shift after dealing with me all night. I silently pray for a sexy, female replacement. “Mr. Mont, you have a visitor.” The nurse says with an annoyed pout on his brow after spotting the substantial amount of balled up napkin pieces scattered around the trashcan.

  “Who is it?” I ask, “Because I’m not talking to any reporters.”

  “A Miss Éclair Beauchene.” He says and completely butchers her last name.

  I nod, “Yeah, okay, I know her.”

  The man grumbles again when he looks at the trash can before leaving the room. A few minutes later, Éclair enters the hospital room. I’m honestly surprised she has come to see me. Truthfully, I’m glad. It’s nice to see a familiar face. As my biggest business rival who doubles as my side chick, we have a very complicated relationship, so I’m not really sure what to expect from her right now. That beautiful blonde hair of hers is let down, which she rarely does anywhere except in the bedroom, and her unusual purple eyes are sparkling. I can see she has been worried about me, and that strangely makes me feel really happy.

  “Are you all right?” she asks as she approaches the bed, putting her hand on the hospital beds hand rail.

  “I’ve been better,” I say.

  There is a hesitation within her words. I can tell she has been listening to the bullshit reporting about me being suicidal. “Good.” She says, and I can see her taping her fingers.

  “I wasn’t trying to kill myself, Éclair,” I say, knowing that that is what is one her mind, “That’s just a bunch of bullshit reporting. Besides, I was the one who was hit –not the other way around. The other car ran a red light, and I was just not paying attention.”

  Éclair seems relieved. Apparently I’m going to have to tell everyone I know that I was not suicidal when the accident occurred. I could probably sue over that. “A relative of mine sent me a video of your accident. It’s gone viral, and it’s quite terrifying to watch.”

  “I think it’s cute that you were worried about me, Éclair,” I say, and she looks really annoyed.

  She gives me a jab in my sore arm, and I flinch terribly. “Ne pas être un trou du cul.” She says, and I know she is insulting me, but that French half of her really turns me on. It always has.

  I rub my arm and say in a firm tone, “That hurt! Don’t be like that, Éclair.”

  “Fine.” She says and crosses her arms, “I was worried about you. Happy?”

  I smile, “Very.”

  “I’ve seen what they’re saying about you on the news.” Éclair says, still looking very worried for me, “What is going to happen to your company?”

  I grimace, “You’re not going to try to buy me out again, are you? Because I told you, I’m not selling.”

  She rolls her eyes, “No, James, I’m honestly just asking. Is Shattered INC. going to be okay?”

  “I don’t know.” I say, “We have got to get to the bottom of what happened. The evidence against me is already stacking up, but I swear, I had no idea. I hope that they find out there is something other than my supplements at play here.”

  “I hope so too.” Éclair says, “I know I give you a hard time, but I don’t want to see you go out like this. If there is anything I can do for you, let me know.”

  I grin, “Well-”

  She laughs. “Don’t tell me you’re horny right now?” she leans over and places her hand on my chest, “You’re hurt.” With her other hand, she touches my cheek with the back of her palm, “Look at that pretty face of yours. I might have to find me a new regular until that heals because, I have to say, it’s not a good look for you –the broken nose, I mean.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I say, and she surprises me with a kiss, and she latches on hard. She works for one hand up underneath the hospital sheet and starts to play with me.

  I feel my breath start to grow warm from the slight panting. Éclair has always been good with her hands. She knows how to get me hard fast –plus, I’m feeling sexually frustrated after my night with Sylvia was interrupted. Her hisses move from my lips to my cheek and then my right ear where she pauses to whisper a few dirty French words. I’m tempted to pull my arm out of my sling and grab her, but the morphine is not strong enough to make me feel comfortable enough to try it. She licks my ear with my tongue as she continues to stroke my one appendage that thankfully did not sustain any sort of injury during the accident. “When you are feeling better,” she says, “You should pay me a visit… I had a swing installed at my apartment.”

  Holy shit.

  “What?” I ask, quite shocked at what she is telling me. I always knew Éclair would occasionally get kinky, but a swing? I could get down with that.

  The door to the room opens; it’s my fucking male nurse. “Oh!” he slaps himself in the face with his clipboard in a desperate attempt to cover his eyes, and he does so way to fast; I can hear the wooden clipboard make contact with his nose, and I hear him mutter, “Shit.” Under his breath. It does not faze Éclair. She just stands upright and straightens herself up. “I’m, uh, sorry,” the nurse says, “I did not realize I was… I mean… I’m going to leave, but you really shouldn’t be doing that in here.”

  Well, this is embarrassin
g. I cover myself up quick. “Don’t bother.” Éclair says, “I was just leaving.” She heads to the door, stopping right next to the poor guy who is still holding his clipboard over his face. She touches his hand and lowers the clipboard so that she can look him in the eye, “Keep this to yourself, would you, sweetheart?” she winks at him and boldly gives him a peck on the cheek before leaving.

  The poor guy looks like Éclair stole his breath; he’s standing there by the door with his mouth wide open. “Yeah,” I say to snap him back into reality, “She has that effect on people. Now close your mouth before a bug flies in there, man.”

  21

  It is only a few minutes after Éclair’s departure before Sylvia makes an appearance. She too had seen the video circling around online as well as the crash coverage on the news, and it did not take her long to figure out where I was at. She looks absolutely devastated, and it kind of makes me feel good to see that she is so concerned. She hurries to the side of my hospital bed, and she leans over to give me a hug. She stays there; her arms draped over my shoulders. I smile and kiss her cheek.

  “For real, man?” I hear the male nurse say, and I glare at him from over Sylvia’s shoulder –threatening him with my eyes if he opens his mouth. The man rolls his eyes and leaves the room. “Don’t be getting kinky in here.” He grumbles as he leaves.

  Sylvia laughs, “What was that about?”

  “I don’t know,” I lie, not wanting her to know someone else had been giving me a hand job not too long ago. I’m not really sure if she would care or not; it’s not like we’re exclusive or anything. We have just met.

  She touches the top of my head where my bandage is and shakes her head. “You’re pretty banged up.” She gently touches my cheek, “Geeze, look at your nose!”

  “Thanks,” I grumble. I sigh, “There are literally a million other things I should be doing right now. My brother is handling things, but he could make it worse if he’s not careful. I need to be talking to a lawyer. I’m sure the police are going to come knocking on my door too. I don’t know what to do. I can’t just sit here.”

  “How long are you going to have to be here?” Sylvia asks.

  “They want me to stay here again tonight since I live alone.” I roll my eyes, “I think I would be fine, but I have a mild concussion, I guess. I just can’t be here anymore. I’m losing my mind.”

  “They just don’t want you to leave because you live alone?” She asks. She twirls some of her hair between her fingers and asks, “What if I stayed with you?”

  Well, that was unexpected. “You would stay with me?”

  “Well, you’re hurt. You really shouldn’t be by yourself right now, and it’s obvious you’re about ready to kill your nurse –and he seems willing to return the favor. I don’t have anything going on at work right now, so I could stay with you for a couple of days until you get back up on your feet.” She smiles, but she seems nervous by her suggestion.

  “You would really do that for me?” I ask. She simply nods and smiles.

  I could kiss her. I smile at the thought of having her back home with me after our night had been interrupted. I would love to have her all to myself for a couple of days playing nurse. I agree, and I think her repeatedly. They won’t let me work or anything here, so at least from home, I could be more reachable in the event Eddie needs me. Soon we are talking to the doctor, and after a few hours, I am finally being released.

  They roll me out in a wheelchair, not that I can’t walk –but it’s some sort of company policy. Sylvia has her car with her, so she drives me home. My car is probably in the dump; that’s something else I’m going to have to deal with… that is probably something that I could probably have my assistant take care of. While I chat up my assistant on the phone, Sylvia is kind enough to go with me to pick up my prescriptions before the two of us head to my penthouse apartment.

  As soon as we’re in the door, she gets me to lay down in bed and take my medicines. She makes me lunch, and I’m really thankful for that. The food I’ve had at the hospital was just awful. I’m really surprised to see that she can cook. She had apparently gone grocery shopping when she found out I had been in an accident in expectation of cooking me a get-well-soon meal. For lunch, I enjoy a chicken cordon bleu, homemade mashed potatoes, and home cooked steamed green beans. I feel like I’m eating like a king.

  She keeps me company, and we do a lot of talking. Deep talking. Like, really deep. I’m surprised. I did not realize she was so smart. Honestly, I sort of just assumed she was all looks. Éclair is the only other woman I know who has both beauty and brains. Every other woman I’ve ever talked to have pretty much just been pretty or sexy. Sylvia has so much more to talk about: life, literature, history, and so many other subjects make their way into our conversation. Soon it takes a new turn, and our intellectual talk turns into flirtatious behavior.

  At first, I don’t notice it myself, but she keeps giggling at me. Eventually, I realize my words are slightly slurred. Must be the medication. Soon Sylvia is taking out the pills to confirm, “Yup. Extreme drowsiness is pretty much a side effect on every one of these.” She laughs, “You can take a nap. You probably need it.”

  “No,” I say and convince her to sit on the side of the bed. I put my arms around her waist and pulled her close, “I’m not tired.” I yawn. Damn it. She laughs, clearly thinking I'm hilarious. I am so desperate to get this woman in bed; it’s ridiculous. “Come on,” I say, “I h-aaa-te…” I can’t make words without concentrating, “I hate that our night got inter-interrupted.” I am seeing double. There is no way I am letting myself fall asleep. I have every intention of having sex with her this time, so I fight the drowsiness that I am feeling.

  Sylvia laughs and leans forward, teasing me. She kisses my lips and cheek and neck. She works her way down to my chest. She knows I’m about out; I can tell that she is not expecting us to have sex right now, but I am hell bent on proving her wrong.

  My eyes droop… oh for crying out loud –wake up, you idiot! She keeps teasing me. I touch her breasts and then work my hand that is not in a sling down so that I can take her top off. My fingers feel numb, and it is taking way too much concentration to find the hem of her shirt. She pushes on my chest, and I fall back into my pillows with little resistance. “You’re tired, James,” she tells me and gives me a peck on my cheek, “It’s okay. Go to sleep.”

  My eyes shut, and I do everything I can to fight my sleep. Stupid pills. Soon I’m out cold.

  22

  After spending a few days out of commission, I was more than happy to make a visit to the factory just to get out of the house. I’m not used to being cooped up like that, although it has been nice having Sylvia wait on me hand and foot, but now she has to get back to work. I tried staying home one day without her to continue recouping, but boredom got the better of me faster than I thought possible. Sylvia playing nurse with occasional making out had been a great distraction from my torn muscles, bruising, and minor fractures.

  I call my driver; I definitely am not going to attempt to drive while on these crazy strong pain meds. Plus, my personal car is at the dump now, so he is going to have to pick up a company car to come get me. I wait around a lot longer than I am used to; obviously my driver is taking longer because he has to figure out a vehicle situation. When he finally calls me to let me know he is outside of my apartment building, I am quite relieved. Truthfully, I’m glad it took him so long. I had exaggerated my own abilities to get ready with my injuries, and it had taken significantly longer than I had estimated. I’m in more pain than I am willing to admit out loud.

  I go out and meet my driver out in front of the apartment building before loading up into the back seat. He is kind enough to ask me how I am feeling, but he is not friendly enough to me to ask about everything going on in the news. Good. He would get an ear full from me if he was brave enough to question things. Soon we are pulling up outside of the office and factory, and there is a swarm of reporters outside. Luckily,
I’m not in my regular car, so I am not spotted right away. “Geez,” I say under my breath.

  “Would you like me to pull around back, sir?” My driver asks.

  “Yes, please do,” I say as I attempt to duck down to avoid being spotted. I definitely do not want to talk to these people right now –especially not since the media has started circling ridiculous suicidal stories. A bunch of assholes is what they are. Seriously –who gives them the right to start shit like that?

  We pull around back, but we are ultimately spotted as my driver attempts to whip it around back. By the time he pulls up to the back entrance, the paparazzi has already made its way to the back of the building. Just my luck. I call Eddie and tell him to have security come escort me. I don’t feel like getting pushed around today –not with the sort of injuries I have. I wait around in the car for several minutes which unfortunately only allows the jackasses to swarm my car like vultures. I try to remain calm, but honestly, the sudden attention is giving me a bit of anxiety. This is not what I need right now.

  Soon the company’s security team is clearing a path for me, and one guy opens up my door and puts a hand on my shoulder as I climb out of the car. He walks with me, one hand on my shoulder to lead me, as the rest of the men push the crowd back. I can hear the reporters shouting at me, “Mr. Mont! Mr. Mont! Do you care to comment about the recent outbreak of illnesses that investigators are claiming has been traced back to your supplements?”